Fortunately, I’m sure some psychologist (far smarter than myself) has established that you’ll know ‘within Five Minutes of meeting someone, whether or not you like them.’ Meaning, ideally, you’ve got the rest of the hour/appointment to actually absorb the dumbed-down scientific process of the torture to come.
Yeah, you’ll now really quickly whether or not you like your Personal Trainer, which leads me to my next point . . .
-Don’t Judge Your Trainer by the Fit of His T-Shirt
This is the fundamental opposite of my first point, Don’t Be Oversold by Scientific Jargon.
Just because your trainer shops at Baby Gap for his workout gear, does not make him a good trainer.
If your trainer’s arms are the size of your waist, and you’re looking to not have your arms be the size of your waist, always check his credentials.
On the other hand, if your goal is weight loss, and you look a hell of a lot more lean than your trainer, maybe they’re not the ideal candidate to motivate you towards hitting those goals.
If your trainer’s lats are so big that he can’t turn sideways—if your trainer is developing increasinglyaggressive pustules over the course of your initial meeting—hell, if you have any indication that he got to that statuesque physique any other way than naturally—
--run.
-Don’t Judge Your Trainer by the Fit of Her T-Shirt
C’mon guys.
If You Happen to be 125lbs—and Your Trainer is 265lbs—and he’s training You like You’re 265lbs—Your Trainer is a Douchebag.
You’ll know quick—on your very first session together, if he walks you up to a loaded Squat Rack, and, with a straight face, asks you to go “Ass-To-Grass” (*--all the way down, past 90 degrees parallel to the ground, Scientific Term--) with 300lbs?
Douchebag.
Hell, if he uses the term, “Ass-To-Grass,” at all.
Ever.
Douchebag.
-Matching Energy
This oft-overlooked rule-of-thumb is just as important as making sure personalities mesh:
If you walk in for your four pm session, exhausted after a day of driving the kids to school/dealing with your asshole boss at work/ picking up the kids at school/ dropping off the kids at whatever-after-school-activities-they-need-dropping-off-at
AND THEN
showing up to be tortured (--in a good way!) then, yes, you want your trainer to be uplifting and refreshing and motivating. Not bouncing off the walls like they’ve ingested an eightball of cocaine.
The trainer is there to allow you to push hard and release some endorphins and feel great-but-a-little-nauseous and forget about the burdens of the worldresting-on-your-shoulders:
GIVE ME TEN MORE, YOU SNIVELING-MUELLING-DISGUSTING-SHELL-OF-A-MAN won’t inspire.
Not one.
Certainly not ten, of anything.
Conversely, if you’re ramped up to hit the weights hard (--like your workday--) and you catch your trainer falling asleep between sets, or texting, or snorting a line of the cocaine you now kinda wish he’d snorted ten minutes before you came in to workout, then, no, that’s not indicative of matching energies, either.
A ‘harmonious union of ideals, goals, and energies—synchronized and ever-progressing to said-goal’s completion’ is the ‘scientific’ term:
All you need to remember is that it is important you’re on the same page.
How to tell if you’re a Douchebag Client
Fair is fair.
I’ve spent years on both sides of the Personal Training desk . . . I’ve been the dewey-eyed, farm-fresh iron virgin, and I’ve been the seasoned veteran who eats said virgins for breakfast (and cash.) So, as hard as I’ve been on my Personal Training Certified brethren, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the shortcomings of some of our clients.
Hence, I present the following examples of who not to be when you invest in the expertise of a workout professional. I warn you in advance—as verbose and outlandish as some of the following stories may seem—they are (in fact and sadly) all true.
The Relentless Flirt
This one goes out to the ladies. Now, before you’re quick to judge, please understand one thing—I adore each and every one of you. In fact, pretty much the entirety of Book 2: Meditations on Girls, and stuff details the fact that every problem, in every relationship situation, is the guy’s fault.
Now, partly because I’m speaking from experience—and partly because you’ll see why this just doesn’t work the other way around—you girls are going to have to bear with me on this.
For God’s sake, stop flirting with your trainer.
I get it. Unfortunately, in some situations, a woman will have absolutely no support system in her goals to feel, look and live better. There’s the asshole husband who tells her she’s too fat, and will always be; there’s the control freak who chastises her for investing her money in a vision of her better self—there’s even the guy who is so insecure, so petty and jealous that he secretly dreads the thought of his woman becoming ‘more attractive’ or ‘more self-confident.’
A woman so used to these psychological, emotional and verbal beatings steps onto the gym floor, scared and hesitant and unsure, and she hires a Personal Trainer. All of a sudden she’s realizing there’s an innerstrength she forgot she had, and she’s feeling better and she’s looking better and
--and I’m all for, up until the point—
She realizes there’s this young, ripped, gorgeous guy (--it’s my book, I’m allowed to build myself up a little bit) cheering her on and complimenting her and believing in her in a way that no one else in her life is.
And then she’s doing weighted back extensions one day, and she feels her trainer’s sinewy (--because he’s so jacked even his Goddamned hand is sinewy) on the small of her back (--because he’s illustrating how she needs to break parallel on the concentric phase of the motion, in order to fully extend the muscles of the rectus Abdominis) and she feels a certain way about it.
And it’s all downhill from there.
Now she swears it’s “because nothing fits right anymore,” but she’s showing up with more ass showing and she’s specifically mentioning where she’s meeting the girls Friday night right after asking where you’re going when you mention you’re going out Friday night also.
And she’s making comments about her flexibility, and maybe she’s making a few too many noises while she’s straddling the abductor
